Section Eight
by Soul Reaver
Summary: A GI Joe/Evo crossover I came up with. The Xavier Institute has been destroyed for five years and a survivor named Conrad Hart who finds himself a GI Joe recruit desires to avenge them....Now Completed
1. The Legionnaire

The Legionnaire  
  
Author's Note/Disclaimer: I do not own any of the GI Joe or X-men Evolution characters in this fanfic. The setting is the year 2007, five years after the probable destruction of the Xavier Institute by the Friends of Humanity and Cobra's taking over the Sentinel production facility…  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"Attention on deck!" Gung Ho called when he saw General Hawk walk into the mess hall with a newcomer walking behind him. The newcomer was in civilian clothes consisting of a light brown leather jacket, gray sweater and tan trousers and carrying a duffel bag and a French military rucksack.  
  
"Joes, this is our new recruit, transferred from the French Foreign Legion, Caporal Conrad Hart." Hawk said, "Lifeline, give our new recruit a tour of the facilities after he stows his gear. Do you know where the barracks are?"  
  
"Oui mon general." The newcomer replied, and when Hawk looked at him, "Sorry sir, force of habit."  
  
In a few minutes the man was smartly attired in a light gray short sleeved uniform complete with his kepi blanc, the traditional white cap of a legionnaire. On his belt was a knife that appeared to be fashioned from a shard of metal with what looked like a rubber knife handle. "That knife doesn't look like it's standard issue."  
  
"It is not." Conrad replied.  
  
"Can I see it?" Lifeline said.  
  
The legionnaire handed him the knife, it was light and well balanced and looked like it had seen quite a bit of use. "I made use of local materials in Africa."  
  
As the legionnaire handed him the dagger, Lifeline saw what looked like a thin, ridged scar down the man's arm. "Also another souvenir from Africa. A Libyan soldier and I got into quite a close in fight and I had to put him down with a shard of metal from the wreckage of my jeep which I later made into this knife." The legionnaire replied.  
  
"Well, since you're all settled in, we've got afternoon close quarter battle training with Duke." Lifeline said uneasily.  
  
The firing line was tense; all the Joes had M-16s in their hands. Flint was paired up with Conrad and the live fire exercise began. The adrenaline rush of this live-fire course was what many a Joe and aspirant had to look out for. As Flint reloaded a magazine, he suddenly saw his partner turn, grab his knife and all he saw was a glinting blur as the blade flew past his ear less than inch away and embed itself firmly in the throat of a pop up target that appeared.  
  
"Foreign Legion combat rule number one, if you have little ammunition and a lot of targets, you are in combat, mon adjutant." Hart said, retrieving his knife from the pop up target.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"Mon adjutant? What is that supposed to mean? He's been calling me that all week." Flint said, "I've never seen such an abrasive character in all my life."  
  
"Admit it, Flint." Lady Jaye said from her side of the table, "You got taken by surprise. That's why this is a team exercise. And by the way he was calling you sir. Adjutant means warrant officer."  
  
"Oh, you're talking about that legionnaire guy. You know that silent guy over there in the olive drab fatigues." Lifeline said, joining them at the table, "It's creepy how he just sits there after he's eaten and sharpens that knife of his."  
  
"Any nickname suggestions?" said Flint.  
  
"How about Section Eight." Said Lifeline, "I swear, he almost freaked when I went into his room to tell him it was chow time."  
  
"He's been here almost a week and he doesn't seem to have much of a social life." Flint said.  
  
"You know, I've often heard the legion accepts nothing less than outright criminals into their ranks." Lifeline mused.  
  
"I notice how he doesn't seem to have any sort of personal affects, like pictures or anything lying around that room." Flint added, "But then he's only been here a week."  
  
"I'll let Psyche Out know if we have any problems." Lifeline said, "Otherwise I can't order a psych eval for a guy just being a grouch."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Tour de France, a famous bicycle race internationally. It was a heady time in the young man's life as he boarded the aircraft bound for France, his bicycle of his own design in the cargo compartment and his gear in a sports bag. Aside from that, his only personal baggage was a small backpack. It was a bit of a disappointment that his friends couldn't be there to provide moral support. Xavier said something about training exercises and the man accepted. Still he wished they could be there.  
  
He thought so even more as he checked into the hotel where the Tour de France racers were staying. As he walked into the cafeteria for lunch he saw Kitty Pryde along with the others from the Institute in the lobby. "Conrad!" Kitty said, recognizing the medium built seventeen-year-old with the light brown leather jacket and tousled brown hair.  
  
"Oh my God!" Conrad Hart replied, smiling ear to ear, "What are you doing here? I thought you had training…"  
  
"Oh that was to surprise you." Scott Summers said, walking into the lobby with two heavy suitcases.  
  
"Yeah, we thought we'd give you some moral support." Jean said, trudging in behind Scott.  
  
It was a happier time for the man. The love of his friends made it feel almost as if he had a family for the first time ever. Suddenly the dream shifted. He was standing in the halls of the Xavier mansion. He saw a dead body leaning against the wall. It was Scott Summers, his glasses broken, one eye-swollen shut, the other wide open as if to accuse the man of betrayal. He saw fires burning at random areas. He could see stones flying through the window, Molotov cocktails being thrown, gunfire. He could see what looked like Rahne hanging by her neck from a tree by a jeering mob…  
  
Conrad woke with a start, that nightmare again for the fifth time that week. Why after five years did it come back. Five years in the Foreign Legion meant a relatively dreamless sleep, dreams about the destruction of the Institute by the Friends of Humanity, self-righteous bastards that they were, and the deaths of his friends were more rare and Conrad could almost forget.  
  
Strangely enough, he heard an announcement over the PA system about a briefing. Within minutes the Joes were assembled, many of them in their pajamas and assorted sleeping gear.  
  
Duke stood behind a podium; "We have received unconfirmed reports that Cobra has had its hands in business with the Friends of Humanity, an international anti-mutant group that's been active in recent years. We believe Cobra has been supplying arms to militant factions of the Friends of Humanity in Bayville…"  
  
"Militant factions my arse," came a bitter retort with a familiar British accent, "They're all prejudiced, militant bastards."  
  
The others turned to see the familiar legionnaire they all called Section Eight sitting in the back of the room, the seven flamed grenade, the mark of the Foreign Legion tattooed into the bicep visible because of his sleeveless t-shirt, his cold brown eyes burning with hatred.  
  
"At any rate, myself, Lady Jaye, and Scarlet are comprising the Intelligence section with Breaker as our communications expert. Lowlight, Lifeline, Section Eight, you're our insertion element. I want you posing as potential buyers and identifying any Cobra operatives encountered. This is an intelligence operation, but the General wants all of you on standby. Something big is brewing and I can feel it." Duke said, "Get your gear together and lets go."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"Where is our resident psychopath, Section Eight?" Lifeline asked.  
  
"Who knows." Lowlight replied, concerned, "He was sitting back there a minute ago."  
  
"He's at the intersection of Bailey Avenue and Harlow Street." Bree replied.  
  
"Lifeline, two questions." Lowlight said, "Did you have to bring her along? And second of all, I know she's a lot of things but since when was she a psychic."  
  
"Psychic? Hardly." Bree said, sitting in the SUV they had rented, "I took the liberty of planting a tracking sensor in our friend Section Eight's jacket."  
  
Bree took a little scanner from her purse, "And now he's moving off Harlow Street to Memorial Street."  
  
"Hey, I'm no resident of Bayville, but according to this map there's a cemetery at where Harlow and Memorial streets branch off." Lowlight said.  
  
"Put her in gear, pronto, Lowlight." Lifeline replied.  
  
From the back seat Bree said, "Hey isn't that Section Eight's rucksack?"  
  
"Don't you dare open that, he might go berserk if discovers you've been rifling through his stuff." Lifeline replied.  
  
"Well I'll be." Bree said, "Two issues of Soldier of Fortune magazine and Cyclist's Monthly? I'm not a psychologist but isn't that a bit of an odd combination."  
  
"Stay out of that thing Bree." Lifeline warned, "Section Eight's gonna be angrier than a swarm of hornets."  
  
"Hey look," Bree said, pulling out a picture in a frame. The picture was a few years old, as evidenced by the folds in it. It contained a picture of a group of people, one of them a younger version of their flighty legionnaire, with a fuller head of hair and a happier disposition. A bald man in a wheel chair was in front and standing beside Section Eight was a young woman with chestnut brown hair, clear blue eyes and a slender build, "Aww, isn't that cute, Section Eight looks like he has a little sweetheart."  
  
"Then why is he going to the cemetery?" Lifeline asked.  
  
"Who can figure that man out?" Bree said, "He truly sounds like a full blown section eight."  
  
"We're at the cemetery, but I don't see Section Eight anywhere." Lifeline said.  
  
"Over there, see that lone figure standing beside that tree in front of that grave." Low Light said. The fog made it harder to see but Lifeline could make out a dim outline of a man, his shoulders hunched, hands in his pocket.  
  
"I killed the headlights, I don't want him to know we've spotted him just yet. Bree you might wanna put that stuff back in his rucksack before we get him down here, we don't know just what kind of state of mind he's in." Lifeline said.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Conrad stood there, in front of the grave, the headstone reading, Kitty Pryde, May 15, 1985 – August 13, 2002. He had wandered out of the SUV he had been sitting in with the others until they got their orders from Duke and walked until he made it to the Bayville Cemetery.  
  
"I don't know what to say, honestly. All I can say is I'm sorry I got you where you are now. It's my damn fault that you're here. I wish that it were you standing here instead of me. I should be the one lying six feet under, not you. The only thing I ever cared about before I met you was adventure, of doing things that were challenges. Then I met you and everything changed. I still love adventure but I love you even more. You saved my life that day, even when I didn't deserve it…" Conrad said, feeling moisture on his face. Funny, no rain, just the fog, but where the hell was this moisture coming from. Actually he knew damn well that the moisture was coming from his eyes but he was vehemently denying it, "I'm going to kill the sons of bitches that did this to you guys if it's the last thing I ever do!"  
  
Lifeline walked among the headstones and as he did so, he did a double take, "Jean Grey, January 3, 1983 – August 13, 2002. Scott Summers, October 5, 1982 – August 13, 2002. Kurt Wagner, July 8, 1985 – August 13, 2002. All these people died at the same day."  
  
He passed two more headstones, Evan Daniels, Ororo Monroe, both sharing the same death date as the other tombstones. He saw Section Eight standing one headstone away the one for Rahne Hadley. Lifeline was behind Section Eight and so Section Eight didn't see him. He read the headstone that Section Eight was standing in front of, the one for Kitty Pryde. He tried to read what he could from the man's expression. Section Eight was thinking of that terrible day five years ago…  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"Oh my God!" Jean Grey said, peering out the window, seeing the angry mob that had trampled down the gates with a large pickup truck. She could see them lynch Rahne from a sturdy oak tree in the lawn.  
  
"Jean, get down!" Scott yelled as a fusillade of gunfire, stones, and firebombs came crashing into the front of the mansion. The Sentinels attack a few hours ago that the X-men had just fought off had rendered the security system nearly useless. Every Sentinel had been destroyed because Conrad had led them right into the teeth of the mansion's defenses, but there was no way any of them could have predicted that the Friends of Humanity rally that was being held that day would turn into a deadly paranoiac orgy against suspected mutants in the town.  
  
Before Jean could do anything, a bullet struck her through the side. "No! Jean!!!" Scott yelled, getting to Jean's side, catching her before she hit the ground.  
  
"Oh my God! Someone help her!!" Scott shouted, bringing a gasping, dying Jean into the infirmary. A stone smashed into his leg, knocking him down. He got up, shakily, firing lethal optic blasts into the mob that was clambering up the staircase. He saw what looked like a bazooka carried by one of the mob that fired it into the ceiling. Rubble began to rain down and Scott threw himself on top of Jean to protect her. It was his last act as they died in each other's arms.  
  
Conrad decloaked, revealing his position and he closed his eyes as he expected bullets to come raining into him when he was dragged through the wall. Kitty Pryde had pulled him through just in time and yanked him into a closet as several bullets came tearing through the drywall.  
  
He heard a British accented voice call out to the mob, "Search this house from top to bottom, kill all the bloody muties you find!"  
  
That voice belonged to a Cobra mercenary called Major Bludd who had sold several Friends of Humanity members military grade weapons and spurred their desire to test them on the "Mutant Menace" by attacking the Xavier Institute, which they had suspected was a mutant haven because why else would the Sentinels attack it.  
  
Both Conrad and Kitty could hear Kurt Wagner scream in pain as he was hit. Shortly after they heard Evan Daniels echo the same. "Let's get out of here while we still can!" Conrad said.  
  
"No, the others!" Kitty said.  
  
"Kitty, there's nothing we can do." Conrad replied.  
  
"Scott will have this down any minute." Kitty said, "Then we can come out."  
  
"Scott's dead." Conrad said gently, "I think the others are too. Stick close to me, I'll cover you and start phasing us outside. I promise we'll look for the others once we get outside."  
  
Kitty wiped away tears as she did so and Conrad cloaked his own body as well as Kitty's. Together, they managed to make it into the woods. However, Conrad had forgotten that though he was invisible he was not completely undetectable as a fusillade of gunfire tore into the foliage. He kept running, half dragging Kitty along until he made it deep enough that it was safe.  
  
"We're safe, for now. Let's wait until they stop searching for us and see if we can't rescue the survivors." Conrad said.  
  
"Conrad, I'm scared." Kitty said.  
  
"Me too. I'm utterly terrified." Conrad had said, he fiddled into his pocket for a lighter just as a single shot echoed through the air, striking Kitty in the abdomen.  
  
"You're not getting away that easy, mutant!" Major Bludd shouted. The mustachioed Englishman came forward and Conrad raised his hands. Kitty did so too, while placed the other one on her belly where the bullet had entered.  
  
Major Bludd came closer and said, "Well, thought you could get away, well you thought wrong…"  
  
With the life of the woman he loved at stake, Conrad hurled himself into Major Bludd, taking the Englishman by surprise, attacking his own countryman with savage desperation. Within a few seconds, Major Bludd had the younger man by his throat, "I shall enjoy killing you, for that was not a wise choice of action. My organization, Cobra, could have used you or the survivors in return for your lives, but you foolishly attacked me, and that should have consequences. So maybe I'll give your lovely companion some medical treatment after I bury you…"  
  
Conrad had dug into his pocket, digging out the lighter that he quietly ignited and stuck into Major Bludd's eye. "AAGGH!!" he shouted in agony, writhing on the ground as Conrad ran to Kitty's side.  
  
"It's alright, I'll get you some help. You're gonna be fine." Conrad said, desperately trying to reassure Kitty that everything would be all right.  
  
"Conrad, it's okay. I'm not going to make it." Kitty said, drifting away.  
  
"No, you're going to make it. I swear you will." Conrad said.  
  
"You tried your best, thank you for getting me this far…" she said as her eyes began to close.  
  
Conrad stayed with her the rest of the night as Major Bludd wandered through the underbrush, nursing his burnt eye. He was no threat for now. He joined the Foreign Legion a month after lying low in the streets, managing to scrounge enough money to buy a plane ticket to Paris.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"Section Eight?" Lifeline said.  
  
The man turned, the look of haunted exhaustion on his face. "Come on, let's get you back to the truck. You're in pretty bad shape."  
  
For once, Section Eight complied.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"So how did you come by that eye patch?" the Baroness asked Major Bludd, as they were pulling off their arms deal.  
  
"I got stabbed in the eye with a lighter here in Bayville when we attacked a mansion harboring mutants." Major Bludd replied.  
  
"What have you got against mutants anyway?" Destro asked.  
  
"I didn't have anything to do with the riot that destroyed Xavier's mansion, but I had everything to do with arming that mob. They had the motivation, I supplied their weapons." Major Bludd replied, "I just want this one mutant, Conrad Hart, who took out my eye five years ago. I want him dead."  
  
To be continued…  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Author's Note: Any questions you may have resulted from my not having seen the GI Joe series in a long time and relying solely on my fragmented memory and a couple fansites. Please place any other questions, complements, comments, and flames (which will be promptly ignored) on the review area. 


	2. He's Alive

He's Alive  
  
Disclaimer: I own none of the GI Joe or X-men Evolution characters in this fanfic.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
The road stretched, open and without bound for miles as far as the eye could see. The solitary man atop the bicycle took this in as he pedaled along its length, in a loop he could see with his minds eye. He saw the mansion looming in the distance, he could hear the younger students playing in the lawns, and he could see the older ones going about their business. He pushed open the gate and tracked his bicycle inside.  
  
He was an especially good mood that day, Kitty had accepted his dinner and a movie invitation and he had to get ready. It was the first time in months that she had left her room since Lance had died. He had been there every day for her since then and it was about halfway through that time where he didn't feel ashamed for his feelings for her. Jean and the others told him it was nothing to feel ashamed about and actually commended him for his steadfast desire to just be a friend to her because that's what Kitty needed, a friend not a lover. As much as the man wanted the latter status he cared enough that Kitty's feelings came first in that matter.  
  
"Hey Conrad." Said Logan, "Take care of half-pint will you?"  
  
"I will. We're only going as friends as far as I can tell." Conrad said.  
  
The memories of that first date made the man smile in his sleep, despite himself. In those days he had no idea he would become the GI Joe recruit known as Section Eight. He finished showering and dressing and sat downstairs reading a magazine, Kepi Blanc, the official magazine of the French Foreign Legion as he waited for Kitty.  
  
She came downstairs, smiling shyly as he walked her out to his car, a 1987 Firebird with an all black exterior, save for the gray door panel with a big dent in the driver's side. He put his magazine on the dash as he started the car. Kitty took a look at the magazine, "So you're serious about joining the Foreign Legion?"  
  
"Yeah." Conrad replied, "I guess because it's one of the most elite armed units in the world today. I dunno, I figured I'd take the challenge."  
  
"Yeah, like, that's totally you. You'd do almost anything if you thought it was a challenge. I remember hearing you talking to Forge about wanting to climb Mt. Everest without any oxygen…" Kitty replied.  
  
"Oh no, actually I want to compete in one of those big bicycle races in the Olympics." Conrad replied.  
  
"So where did you hear about the Foreign Legion?" Kitty asked.  
  
"In France last summer, I want to finish high school and then take the challenge." Conrad replied.  
  
Dinner went by well, so did the movie, and on the drive back the conversation shifted to more serious topics. "Kitty, I don't know how you feel about this whole thing and I just want to say I'd rather us stay friends than mess anything up. I want to say you mean more to me than any person on this earth, and I mean that. I know you're still upset about what happened to Lance…"  
  
"Conrad, I grieve for Lance, I probably still will for a long time, but Jean was right, I need to move on. You wanna know something." Kitty said.  
  
"What?" Conrad replied, as they pulled into the garage.  
  
"If Lance hadn't come along it would have been you from the start." Kitty replied, giving him a peck on the cheek, "I had a great time. Thanks."  
  
Then the dream shifted, "Take care of half pint, will you?" And then he saw the mansion burning again, the angry mob looting and destroying all they could find, killing the hated 'muties' within.  
  
It shifted again and this time Conrad was holding Kitty's limp and nearly lifeless form in his arms again…."AAGGGHH!!!"  
  
Conrad sat bolt up on the couch, Lifeline turned around from one of the beds. Section Eight was visibly shaking, covered in sweat. "Nightmare."  
  
"Forget it." Section Eight said coldly, but still shaking.  
  
"That's the classic look of a man who wants to be helped but still refuses it. Does it have anything to do with that row of tombstones we found you standing over in the cemetery last night." Lifeline said.  
  
"That's none your concern." Section Eight said.  
  
"As a medic post traumatic stress syndrome, which is a medical disorder, falls under my concern." Lifeline said, "You don't like it, you can discuss this with Psyche Out in the morning."  
  
"It does have something to do with last night." Section Eight confided.  
  
"Anytime you want to let it out, you know where I can be reached." Lifeline said.  
  
Section Eight had already rolled over and gone back to sleep. "That man is easily one of the most difficult cases I've had to work with in my entire career."  
  
"Go back to sleep, we've got Cobra's to ID tomorrow, remember." Bree said. Lowlight was sleeping soundly in the other bed, emitting snores like a fleet of chainsaw motors. Lifeline kicked the sniper in the side and Lowlight snored again, much quieter this time.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Jaime Madrox came running excitedly to Professor Xavier, reclining in his wheelchair. "Professor X! Professor X! You won't believe whom I saw at the cemetery! I went to put flowers on Rahne's grave when I saw. He's alive! I don't believe it!"  
  
"Calm down Multiple." Xavier said, "Who did you see?"  
  
"Conrad Hart, a.k.a. Ghost." Multiple said, "He's alive. I saw him in front of Kitty's grave yesterday afternoon."  
  
Logan, who had walked in when he had heard the ruckus said, "What's going on, Charles."  
  
"Jamie claims he saw one of our students whom we had given up for dead." Xavier said, "Conrad Hart."  
  
"This may be worth checking out, Charles, but who's gonna check this rumor out." Logan said.  
  
"Let me go, Mr. Logan." Multiple said.  
  
"But you ain't goin' alone, kid." Rogue said, she had been listening in the entire time.  
  
"I was thinking someone more along my lines in case we run into any more mutant hunters." Logan said.  
  
"But who's gonna protect the professor." Rogue said.  
  
"Fine, you kids have a point, but stay in contact at all times." Logan said, "The last thing I want is to lose any more of you."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Major Bludd cursed silently to himself, he had to be extremely vigilant at this time with this crowd. Several Range Vipers were arraying weapons across several tables in the warehouse. They were awaiting their buyer to come along. Zartan was standing behind him and to the left, the eye that had been knocked out. It made him uncomfortable that the shape shifter was standing where he was, hell it made him uncomfortable when anyone stood in his blind spot where he had no peripheral vision. The saw the SUV pull up, it's lights off, as per their request.  
  
He saw two figures come walking out of the vehicle. One was a tall fellow with dark sunglasses and dressed in somber black and gray tones. The one standing at his side was shorter, with a thin beard and a brown leather jacket. The two Range Vipers at the door moved to search them and found nothing.  
  
Major Bludd didn't see Bree and Lifeline ducked in the SUV's back seat, "Duke, Lowlight and Section Eight are in position." Lifeline said.  
  
"Switching to visual now." Lady Jaye said, turning on the micro transmitter artfully hidden in Lowlight's sunglasses.  
  
"Audio feed, active." Scarlet said from her own seat in the van.  
  
"Patch it through." Duke said.  
  
Scarlet patched both through the large television set in the van. "They're about to meet the contact. It's Major Bludd. Confirmed Cobra presence."  
  
They saw Section Eight hold a knife to Zartan's throat and tensed, "You'll have to excuse my bodyguard he's a tad paranoid. It's in his nature to react instantly when someone walks too close to him."  
  
"Quite a nice trait to have in a bodyguard." Major Bludd said.  
  
"Good enough to get a weapon past your guards." Lowlight said.  
  
Duke breathed a sigh of relief, the Cobras appeared to be fooled. "Always a good thing isn't it." Major Bludd bantered gamely, "Shouldn't he apologize to Mr. Zartan?"  
  
"Sad to say," Lowlight said, "Simon lost the ability to speak early in his life. He has since learned to make actions speak louder than words."  
  
"I see I suppose that would be an asset in GI Joe. Do you really think you'd fool me that easily Lowlight?" Major Bludd said.  
  
Over the monitor they saw Section Eight's knife go flying through the air and bury itself in a Range Viper's throat. With a quickness learned in many a firefight, both Section Eight and Lowlight dived for cover, Section Eight retrieving his knife and the Range Viper's assault rifle. Firing a burst into another pair of attacking Cobras he enable Lowlight to grab a weapon of his own and some ammunition. He tossed Section Eight a magazine pouch, "Make these count."  
  
"No need to tell me twice." Section Eight said, years of Foreign Legion combat training and experience kicking in. He put his front sight on the M- 16 on a Crimson Viper's center of mass and squeezed of a three round burst. "Damn, at least the FAMAS had a full auto option."  
  
"This is Duke to all units, Lowlight and Section Eight have been compromised, head to their coordinates ASAP!" Duke shouted over the radio.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Major Bludd had been in the sights of the Foreign Legionnaire he now recognized as the man who blinded him in the left eye five years ago when a javelin exploded beside him. Lady Jaye, Scarlet and Duke came charging into the firefight with Stormshadow and Flint going through the skylight.  
  
"Where's Section Eight?" Flint asked Lowlight, who was cradling an H&K G-3 rifle with a telescopic sight.  
  
"He went after Major Bludd." Lowlight shouted. That's when they heard the forklift come at full tilt through the area, knocking over an unfortunate Viper that got in the way. They heard the sound of shots being fired, seeing two bullet holes appear beside Major Bludd's head.  
  
"Uh, Section Eight, we'd like to take him alive if possible." Lady Jaye said, moving up on top of the crates where the Legionnaire was crouched. Acting as though he never heard her, he fired another burst, this one hitting Major Bludd in the knee joint.  
  
The forklift spiraled out of control, crashing into a wall and Major Bludd crawled out, shouting for help. Section Eight raised his M-16 again, aiming slowly and deliberately when Lady Jaye knocked it down. "We want him alive. Orders from the top."  
  
All she saw was a look of pure rage as he ran, vaulting across the distance of 20 meters between himself and Major Bludd, knife in hand. Stormshadow intercepted with a quick kick. It only sent Section Eight to one knee when it should have dropped him on his back. Then a deranged howl ripped from the throat of Section Eight, he was clearly berserk with rage at Major Bludd for some past reason yet unknown because Stormshadow had to literally knock him out to subdue him.  
  
The capture of a major Cobra kingpin was a certain boon for this mission, but Duke wondered about the new recruit. He was barely able to be controlled and in the heat of a firefight was ready to settle a score with their prisoner. Definitely a visit to Psyche-Out was in order… 


	3. Circle of Vengeance

Circle of Vengeance  
  
Disclaimer: Again I own none of the GI Joe or X-men Evolution characters in this fanfic.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"So let me get this straight," Psyche-Out said, "Beach Head said something negative about mutants, favoring the registration act and you saw no other way to get your point across but to hit him in the head with a metal tray in the mess hall."  
  
"He started it." Section Eight said, nursing a swollen eye with one hand, holding his beret with the winged dagger insignia of a Foreign Legion paratrooper in one hand, his olive drab fatigues smeared with bits of food and debris.  
  
"He then proceeded to punch you in the eye whereupon you knee kicked him in the groin, knocked him against a wall thinking to knock him out. Then he throws you on your back and you shoved a handful of pepper into his eyes." Psyche-Out said, "I can see why they call you Section Eight. If it weren't for Roadblock intervening when he did one of you would have killed the other."  
  
"Excuse me if one of the defenders of the free world can't seem to be a little more enlightened." Section Eight said.  
  
"And is gouging out someone's eye a way to enlighten someone?" Psyche-Out said, "Your recent behavior seems to indicate all the symptoms of anger management difficulties and possible post traumatic stress syndrome. There was a traumatic event in your life that has to do with the issue of mutants, would you mind telling me what that is?"  
  
"No, I would rather not." Section Eight said.  
  
"All right then, but these nightmares you've been having, Lifeline's been telling me they've had a big effect on your attitude at work. Would you mind telling me what they are?" Psyche-Out asked.  
  
"Let me ask you a question, Psyche-Out? Have you ever patrolled vast expanses of desert in search of Libyan marauders? Have you ever been in a firefight with angry Somali gunmen staring down your throat? If the answer to either is no then there is no way you can know what I endure. Now if you'll excuse me, I have duty to do in the motor pool." Section Eight said.  
  
As the legionnaire stormed out, Psyche-Out mused, "I've never seen anyone so eager to go on duty in all my years, maybe I need the psych-eval."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"Say again, Cover Girl you're breaking up. Damn radio!" Cross Country cursed from under the Havoc's dashboard.  
  
"Something wrong?" Section Eight said.  
  
Cross Country jumped, "Jeez fella, you about had me jumpin' out of mah skin like a scared jack rabbit."  
  
"Need help." Section Eight said.  
  
"Hey, ain't you that legionnaire guy everyone's been talkin' about. You know, the fella everyone calls Section Eight." Cross Country said.  
  
"Yes. I do not see the purpose behind these code names but since the higher ups decree them necessary I bow to the inevitable." Section Eight replied.  
  
"Well, if you wanna make yourself useful, see if you can't fix that radio." Cross Country said.  
  
"I take it the antennae is intact." Section Eight said.  
  
"Naw, this is one of them newer radio sets that have redundant antennae. It's one of them NATO toys with the magnetic coil transmitters." Cross Country said.  
  
"Well, then your problem is solved. This is a French Dassault Model radio for ground vehicles. It works along the same principle as the larger radio sets you no doubt have on base." Section Eight said, "To remedy this reception error I could take the set apart and realign the coils manually. Or I could take a simpler step."  
  
Section Eight bashed the radio set lightly with his fist, and said, "Try it now."  
  
"Cover Girl to Cross Country, have you got that radio working yet?" said an impatient woman's voice.  
  
"Yeah, works just fine. The new guy got it working." Cross Country said, "How'd you do that?"  
  
"Easy." Section Eight said, "For two and half out of the five years I've been in the Foreign Legion I was a radio operator."  
  
Cover Girl came up to the Havoc, "Weren't you the guy that was tearing it up with Beach Head in the mess hall at lunch time?"  
  
"Does everyone know about this now?" Section Eight said.  
  
"It's been all over the base. Beach Head's got a major bug up his ass, so it doesn't surprise me that you couldn't stand him. Most of us can't but we just avoid him, or bug him, like Shipwreck usually does but I've never heard of anyone yet who's punched it up with Beach Head and almost won except for our ninjas." Cross Country said.  
  
"Well that was when Roadblock intervened. He picked up our resident legionnaire like he weighed nothing and set him down on his feet, hard." Cover Girl said, "And it took me, Sarge and Gung Ho to keep Beach Head from jumping back into the fight."  
  
"Say, does that little trick of yours work all the time?" Cross County said.  
  
"With most magnetic transmitters, yes." Section Eight said.  
  
"Weren't you in the Tour de France?" Cover Girl asked.  
  
"Yes, I was." Section Eight said, "How did you know."  
  
"I bumped into you in the lobby at the Paris Hotel." Cover Girl said, "I was doing a photo shoot that afternoon and the big Tour de France logo on your t-shirt gave you away easily."  
  
"Oh yeah, I accidentally got coffee all over your outfit." Section Eight replied, "Hope Madame Lautrec wasn't too upset."  
  
"How did you know about the Madame's photo shoot?" Cover Girl said, "And yes, she flew into her usual tantrum. And I thought drill sergeants were bad."  
  
"It was all over the lobby, the advertisements I mean." Section Eight replied, "And I think Sergent-Chef Zim, one of the NCOs at my basic training camp would easily have the Madame beat any day for intimidation when angry."  
  
"Oh that's easy to say, he's probably some big intimidating legionnaire with tattoos all over and a shaved head and Madame Lautrec was just some prune faced little French lass…" Cross Country replied.  
  
"Oh no she wasn't, she may not look intimidating but when she was mad, models and photographers alike ducked for cover." Cover Girl said giving Cross Country a look that spoke of reprisal of some kind.  
  
"I take it you two are romantically involved." Section Eight replied.  
  
"What about you, is there some little lady here or stateside you're seeing." Cross Country said.  
  
Section Eight transfixed Cross Country with a hard stare, "There was, but no longer."  
  
"It's alright. Better to have loved and lost than not to have loved at all. What happened, she dumped you? Get married?" Cover Girl asked.  
  
"She's dead." Section Eight replied, turning on one heel and walking back to the barracks with a hard look on his face. Both Cover Girl and Cross Country watched him go.  
  
"No wonder he's so sullen all the time." Cover Girl said, her words barely scratching the surface of an acid torment that had taken Section Eight by surprise and etched away part of his soul.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
The African sun was sweltering at noon over the savannah. A cloud of dust appeared over the horizon, a French VRLA truck responding to an emergency, accompanied by an armored car. A French helicopter had gone down over the Chadian border where Libyan infiltrators had been particularly active.  
  
The legionnaires swarmed towards the wreckage just as a fairly large Libyan force in a flatbed truck arrived on the scene, starting to cart away the surviving aircrew and parts of the wreck.  
  
The legionnaires opened fire at the same time as the Libyans did. The Libyan conscripts were poor shots and missed most of their targets while the legionnaires were deadly accurate. The firefight degenerated into a confused melee around the wrecked French helicopter.  
  
The young nineteen-year-old legionnaire, Conrad Hart found himself next to a dazed French pilot. As he fumbled for his bayonet to remove the flex cuffs holding her wrists a Libyan soldier attacked him, his dagger slicing a long, deep cut across his forearm. The Libyan jumped on him and Conrad found himself fighting for his life. His hand closed around a sharpened piece of metal from the wrecked aircraft that he jabbed into the Libyan's neck, spilling a stream of arterial blood into his face. It was the piece of metal he would eventually fashion into a crude knife which he always kept at his side.  
  
The dream shifted again, and this time Conrad was walking through the strangely deserted streets of Mogadishu, Somalia, his FAMAS in hand. He saw a dead Somali leaned against a wall. Suddenly the Somali's head propped up, his eyes popped wide open, "RRAAGGGH!"  
  
"AAAGH!" Section Eight shouted, waking from another nightmare.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"Nightmares again?" Psyche-Out asked, "I took the liberty of going through your service record with the legion. It says you saw a fair share of combat in Chad and Somalia. You know that nightmares are a classic symptom of post traumatic stress syndrome."  
  
"I am well aware of that." Section Eight said.  
  
"Well, you don't have to be so impatient." Psyche Out said, "Again, if you need me…"  
  
"I know where to find you. Good night." Section Eight replied.  
  
"You know, Psyche Out's just trying to help," Lifeline began as he saw Section Eight walking out of the office, "So am I."  
  
"I don't need your help." Section Eight said.  
  
"It sounds like you do, but every time someone tries to help you, you push it away. What is wrong with you?" Lifeline said.  
  
"Have you ever had someone die in your arms, Lifeline?" Section Eight growled, "Someone you cared about. Not just another patient. Someone you were planning to spend the rest of your life with after your tour of duty with the Foreign Legion. No, you haven't."  
  
"I bet I could." Lifeline said, "Just take a seat and let me touch your head."  
  
"You're a mutant too?" Section Eight said, easing up a little.  
  
"No, but I do have a healing gift." Lifeline said.  
  
Section Eight sat down, "Now think of someplace nice and soothing. A pleasant memory for example…"  
  
Lifeline pressed his fingers to Section Eight's forehead. Instantly he was transported to a garage at a large mansion. He saw a tan skinned man with a goatee and a younger version of Section Eight standing over a pile of light aluminum struts with bicycle parts spread out everywhere.  
  
"You sure this is to specs?" Conrad asked.  
  
"Twenty percent lighter, just as you requested with new shocks put in and fresh tires. I built a dimensional travel device, a custom bike's a piece of cake." Forge said.  
  
Lifeline said, "Now to see where the troubles lie."  
  
As soon as he said that, he found himself standing in the middle of a street in the city of Mogadishu. He could see several African tribal gunmen engaged in a fierce gunfight with several legionnaires ducked inside an old house. One of them was a younger Section Eight. Lifeline vaguely recognized the crisis as the botched Operation Torch; a joint operation between GI Joe and the French Foreign Legion to destroy several tons of Cobra supplied military hardware in Mogadishu. The Legionnaires had been caught in the worst of the Somali fire, taking fifteen dead and nearly seventy-eight wounded out of their 150-man strike force.  
  
"No, not quite." Lifeline thought.  
  
This time he was standing in a forest clearing and was bumped by a shambling figure he recognized as Major Bludd, who was holding his right hand over a burnt eye. He saw the younger version of Section Eight, or Conrad Hart, the name in his personal file, sitting on the ground cradling a wounded young woman in his arms, someone he had no way of helping. He felt the jolt, a mix of guilt-ridden anguish, pain, and sorrow with more than an undercurrent of rage mixed within. So that's where his vengeance against Major Bludd lay and something told him that his healing touches were only calming Section Eight not erasing his anger all together. Apparently Major Bludd had begun a circle of vengeance by killing the woman Lifeline knew was Kitty Pryde and destroying the Xavier Institute and Section Eight wasn't going to rest until that circle of vengeance was complete, regardless of the cost.  
  
"Looks like this is worse than I thought." Lifeline said as he popped back into the real world just as the alarms started to sound… 


	4. Sentinels

Sentinels  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the X-men Evolution or GI Joe characters in this fanfic.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"What is it?" Hawk said, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and ducking as a laser blast flew past his face.  
  
"We're under attack, some kind of robotic life form. They're attacking the armory, prison, and our perimeter defenses. We've already killed several of them but a few have gotten through, not enough to cause much damage, sir." Stormshadow said, yanking Hawk clear.  
  
"They're also attacking the clinic for an unexplained reason." Lady Jaye, who had been running alongside Stormshadow added.  
  
"Who's in there?" Hawk asked.  
  
"Lifeline, Psyche Out and Section Eight. They seem to be intensifying their attack in that area." Stormshadow replied.  
  
They saw Section Eight run into the armory just then as a couple of the robots chased him. They were close enough to here him yell. "Come and get me you son of a bitch!"  
  
They saw him run back out with a Randler shoulder mounted anti-tank rocket launcher and a dozen rockets stuffed in a backpack. He fired a rocket into the chest of one of the robots, blasting it half. The other came at him, inexorably. Section Eight reloaded a rocket and fired again. The man was literally berserk with battle fury.  
  
The roof of the prison complex burst open and a sentinel robot burst through the roof, carrying of Major Bludd. Section Eight launched a rocket towards them that trailed off in the distance.  
  
A Sentinel stood in front of Hawk and as it was about to fire its laser cannon they heard a voice belonging to their resident legionnaire, "Mon general, three words for you. Hit the deck!"  
  
A rocket buried itself into the Sentinel's electronic guts without exploding. The Sentinel didn't get back up and didn't fire again. Its glowing eyes were dim. Section Eight stood there with the smoking rocket launcher and helped Hawk to his feet.  
  
"I'd like to get a closer look at that robot, sir." Sci-Fi said.  
  
"Knock yourself out, Sci-Fi, I want some Intel on it as soon as possible." Hawk said.  
  
"Yes sir." Sci-Fi said.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Later: "According to all reports those robots attacked the prison and the clinic with the most intensity and of the personnel in the clinic they seemed to be most focused on Section Eight and Lifeline to a lesser extent." Duke said, putting a report on Hawk's desk a few hours later.  
  
"That's odd, why them?" Hawk asked.  
  
"That's what I've been trying to figure out. But Sci-Fi's found something out about those robots that might interest you. It's been called the Sentinel robot that's been tested recently by the government that's supposed to be the enforcer of the Mutant Registration Act. At any rate any mutants they detect they automatically set about destroying. Apparently Cobra's stolen the plans for the Sentinel and has been manufacturing their own but retaining much of the original programming. From what I can tell, Section Eight is a mutant." Duke said.  
  
Hawk looked stunned for the first time in a long time. Duke, Flint, Beach Head, and Hawk all walked to the infirmary where Section Eight was sitting on a cot being checked by Lifeline and Bree via a blood test.  
  
Section Eight immediately said, "Mon general, we are in terrible danger! Those Sentinels were likely only a first wave assault!"  
  
"Stop being frantic Eight, we don't have time." Beach Head said, "Just because a whole house full of muties was hit by a wave of sentinels and FOH demonstrators twice doesn't mean it's gonna happen…"  
  
Those words might have been the last words Beach Head uttered because Section Eight charged him. Beach Head sent out a damaging kick to the groin that would have normally been enough to knock a man flat on his back. It only sent the man to one knee that was all. And then a deranged howl ripped from the throat of Section Eight, he bounded the leg's length between himself and Beach Head like a panther, swinging a crippling blow with the knee to Beach Head's groin, followed up with an elbow to the throat. Before anyone could do anything, Section Eight was on top of Beach Head his fingers around the Ranger's throat, his dark eyes glowing with white-hot hatred.  
  
"It's intolerant fucks like you that tore away from me everything I ever loved. So it bothers me not if you die to pay back but a small portion of all the blood that they have shed. Vae Victus!!!!" Section Eight was roiling fury, more intense than anything they had previously seen him manifest.  
  
Flint struck at the back of Section Eight's neck with an elbow, Beach Head was gasping and choking, clawing desperately as Section Eight's legs pinioned his arms. Eight was squeezing with iron fingers as he spat in Beach Head's face as Flint knocked him out.  
  
Beach Head stood, choking, "Throw this son of a bitch into the brig! He just assaulted…"  
  
"Beach Head, you had it coming with that insensitive comment. That mansion destroyed was Section Eight's home. Think about it, those people were practically his family. How would you feel if your home was destroyed? If people you loved were killed? How would you feel if you had to hold your beloved in your arms as she died?" Lifeline snapped back with uncharacteristic anger.  
  
"You didn't mind meld with Section Eight, did you?" Hawk said.  
  
"I did." Lifeline said.  
  
"I'm guessing some of his berserk rage rubbed off on you, didn't it?" Hawk asked.  
  
"I'm not defending what he did, but in light of what he's suffered…" Lifeline said.  
  
"What he's suffered? Think of what I'm suffering, I don't think I'll be able to have children…" Beach Head groaned, nursing his bruised privates.  
  
"Gee Beach Head, I can't quite imagine all kinds of little baby Beach Heads running around." Flint said.  
  
"You'll have to find a woman that would put up with you first." Scarlet said, entering, "We've just received a transmission from Cobra."  
  
"Greetings GI Joe. As you've no doubt guessed, we've taken over the Sentinel production facility in Bayville. Less than an hour ago a demand went out to world leaders, if they want to keep their nations and their lives they must bow down to me. I have Sentinels on standby awaiting my order if my demands aren't met in 48 hours. Any act of intervention on your behalf will condemn all the world leaders." Cobra Commander said.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Section Eight was put to work in the base armory under Low Light's supervision as well as a shift in the dojo where he was to be taught control. Hawk let him know he was on probation. Any more confrontations between himself and Beach Head or anyone else would get him time in the brig.  
  
"Know anything about sniper rifles? How to care for them?" Low Light asked.  
  
"My company in the 2nd REP (2nd Foreign Parachute Regiment), 4th Company, specialized in sniping and demolitions. I am equally proficient in both areas." Section Eight replied, pausing to examine a telescopic bolt-action rifle.  
  
"That's one of the new batch we received. I had to badger Hawk to order these in." Low Light said.  
  
"An Accuracy International L96A1, Infantry variant. We actually used these operationally in Chad on my second African tour of duty." Section Eight replied, checking the chamber and aiming it at the ceiling, "I never thought I'd see one in American hands."  
  
"I prefer our US Army M24 Sniper Weapon System or US Marine M40A1 rifles myself with the H&K PSG1 being a close second." Low Light said.  
  
"Never used any of those rifles. I either used the FR-FR2, the standard French sniper rifle, or the American .50 caliber M82A1, the L96A1 I only used once but I consider it a real joy to use." Section Eight replied.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"I see you've found yourself a new friend." Lifeline said, sipping a cup of herbal tea in the mess hall, sitting across from Low Light.  
  
"Yeah, Section Eight's not that bad once you get to know him, although it seems like something's eating away at him causing him to snap…" Low Light said.  
  
"Yeah and Beach Head's abrasive personality isn't helping at all. You don't know how close Hawk was to throwing Section Eight into the brig for that attack in the infirmary." Lifeline replied.  
  
"Yeah, but Beach Head's instigated Section Eight both times he's snapped." Low Light said, "And it's already all over the base. Beach Head sporting a shiner over one eye that's partially visible through his mask does tend to draw a few rumors. Especially if Shipwreck yanks the mask off in the middle of the mess hall."  
  
"That explains how the entire base knows about Beach Head and Section Eight's little confrontation." Lifeline said, wincing when he saw Beach Head and Section Eight pass each other with hard eyed stares before they walked to opposite sides of the mess hall.  
  
Suddenly the TV news that had been droning in the background began to broadcast more pressing news, "This just in: Sentinel robots commandeered by Cobra have spearheaded an assault on the city of Bayville, occupying the city in a matter of hours…"  
  
The Joes took the news in before Hawk called a general assembly. Lifeline noticed that Section Eight was mustering a hard eyed stare.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"I'm going to kill those bastards." Section Eight said, filling pouches on his web gear with ammunition and supplies and hefting the L96A1 sniper rifle after buckling on a 9mm pistol and putting an MP5 sub machinegun into a field pack with several clips of ammo.  
  
They other Joes were preparing weapons and ammo and hustling into vehicles. Low Light, Section Eight, Road Block, and Beach Head were part of a four-man reconnaissance team being inserted behind Cobra lines in Bayville.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"Where's Section Eight?" Beach Head said, exasperated.  
  
"I don't know." Low Light said, "He muttered something about solo- reconnaissance and went off."  
  
"Damn it! Low Light, go track down our wayward legionnaire and bring him back over here." Beach Head said.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
The Xavier mansion was but ruins, a burned out shell of it's former self. Hidden in one of many hiding places only he knew, Section Eight lay hidden, ready to settle a score with the Cobras he knew that had destroyed the place.  
  
Peering through his telescopic sight, he saw a Cobra Crimson Guard soldier walking the grounds. With an even breath he squeezed the trigger, aiming very gently for the Cobra's head.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Crack! The sound of a single rifle shot and the sight of a fallen Crimson Guard viper was enough to awaken Major Bludd from the drudgery of his assignment of searching the gutted mansion for anything that could be salvaged, like Cerebro which they hadn't found when the accursed place had been destroyed.  
  
Watching from hiding, Todd Tolansky hopped back into a room. Three years ago several members of the Brotherhood, after Mystique's death at the hands of Magneto and Magneto's death at the hands of the Sentinels joined up with the remnants of the X-men.  
  
He went through a secret passageway down into the basement levels, untouched by the destruction that ravaged the mansion. "Professor, we've got Cobras."  
  
"I know, Todd." Xavier said, "If they compromise the lower levels then we will defend, but we must stay hidden as long as possible. Cerebro must not fall into their hands. Logan, have the others ready themselves for battle, I will protect Cerebro. If it or I come close to capture make sure neither Cerebro or I survive."  
  
"Chuck, I'll do both of you in myself if I have to but let's hope I don't have to." Logan said.  
  
That was when they saw several more Cobra vehicles approaching via the surviving security cameras. "So much for remaining hidden, eh Charles." Logan said, going to rally the others.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"We can't let this sniper slow us down." Destro said, "Major Bludd, you take all the vipers you can muster and search this mansion's grounds. And if you find that sniper, take him alive if possible."  
  
"If it is who I think it is, I'll take the pleasure of his execution myself." Major Bludd said.  
  
The Cobra soldiers had the mansion's gutted interior under full control but what they and the other snakes had missed was the fact that the surviving mutants had holed up in the underground levels, building living areas out of the many storage facilities. Xavier's Institute may have been destroyed but Xavier and his surviving students were in hiding, waiting for the right moment to restart again.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
The Cobra soldier wandered into the burned out remains of what had once been the room of two girls apparently. Remnants of burnt of boy band posters, a couple charred remnants of a gothic novel, as well a picture of a gothic girl and a brunette standing side by side near the fountain out front proved his supposition to be true.  
  
"What is that God awful stench?" he asked down the hall.  
  
"It ain't polite to look through a lady's stuff, yo." Said Toad, clinging to the ceiling, his tongue lancing down and snapping the viper's neck before he could reply.  
  
He saw another viper walk in, catching him in the act. The viper aimed it's rifle at Toad and he saw his entire life flash before his eyes before the viper's helmet cracked as a bullet smashed through the window, hitting him just above his right ear.  
  
"Thanks yo." Toad muttered, though his rescuer could not hear him, being hidden under a bush 150 meters away.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Another viper walked with a bottle of scotch he had found in the basement, one of several bottles squirreled away in a cabinet. "Hey, isn't that for special occasions only."  
  
"Huh?" the viper said, there wasn't supposed to be anyone in here. That was his last thought as Fred smashed his head through the drywall and into a support beam, breaking his neck.  
  
Wolverine quickly and silently dispatched another viper with his adamantium claws. All around the mansion all sorts of miniature battles were being waged with the Cobra invaders.  
  
Section Eight took this in, peering through his telescopic sight as Amara set a couple of Cobra vehicles alight. A Cobra sniper hiding in one of Kitty's favorite trees, above the driveway, was sighting in on her through his own telescopic sight.  
  
Wolverine, who had mouse holed from the basement into the ground floor saw the source of peril Amara wasn't even aware of as she torched several Cobra vehicles. There was no way he could help her he was too far away. He witnessed a death at that moment, but not Amara's  
  
The Cobra sniper turned, sensing that he had been detected from the tool shed over a hundred meters away. When he sighted on his adversary, firing through a hole in the wall it was the last thing he ever did. A bullet plowed right through his telescopic sight and into his brain.  
  
Wolverine bounded outside to help Amara. As he saw the twitching, recently dispatched body of the dead Cobra he could see they were not alone. He saw a figure decloak suddenly, it belonged to a man who had been missing and presumed dead for five years, Conrad Hart. 


	5. Elysium

Elysium  
  
Disclaimer: Same as in every other chapter.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
The Cobras that had occupied the Xavier Institute were finding out that they were not sitting on abandoned smoldering ruins as evidenced by the mutants that were fighting a guerilla war against them. They would ambush small groups or individual soldiers while terrorizing the rest.  
  
"I sense the hand of an old foe." Major Bludd said, coolly looking over the wreckage of several Cobra vehicles and the dead sniper lying face up on the driveway. The bullet that killed him had gone right into his eye through his telescopic sight.  
  
"I see. And I can sense GI Joe involvement as well." Destro said, knowing of confirmed reports of GI Joe activity behind their lines.  
  
"These mutants sure are a deadly force when provoked. Dr. Mindbender wants corpses or preferably live specimens for experimentation but Cerebro is the top priority." Major Bludd said.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
The mutants had retreated into their basement hideout to confer with Professor Xavier. "Harassment and hit and run fighting won't delay the Cobras forever. Conrad, when exactly is the GI Joe offensive slated to begin?" Logan asked.  
  
"In approximately fifteen hours." Conrad replied, grimly cleaning his rifle and adjusting the telescopic sight.  
  
"Charles, I don't know how were gonna be able to hold off the Cobras, but we ought to try to hold out for at least fifteen hours." Logan said.  
  
"I've received some training about guerilla warfare in the Foreign Legion and if we're going to hold out, we've got to spread out around the grounds." Conrad said, "And we've got to keep up a high level of harassment, try to lure and deceive the Cobras as to Cerebro's real location, maybe see if we can't try and reactivate some of our old defense systems."  
  
"He's right. Logan, draw up plans and sectors of responsibility for the students and have them engage the Cobras in any way possible. I'll need you to coordinate the efforts." Xavier said.  
  
"We need to start now, Charles." Logan said.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Multiple stood before the Cobra soldier, "I know a doctor who's just dying to get his hands on freaks like you."  
  
He backhanded the lanky seventeen-year-old who immediately produced duplicates that jumped the Cobra. A single rifle shot rang out and the Cobra fell limp to the floor. Multiple looked up to see Conrad Hart, his old childhood hero coolly extract the spent round and disappear again into the ventilation shafts.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Another Cobra search unit was going through the garden, looking for secret passages. Toad leaped up over a row of hedges and saw them. Way too many to attack unless…  
  
"Look out! Coming through!" Pietro yelled, running at full tilt through their ranks, "Hot potato!"  
  
He threw one of Tabitha's energy bombs into their midst and before they could react the energy bomb exploded. Toad, Pietro and Tabby exchanged high fives while looking for another group of targets.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
The Baroness was walking through the halls of the mansion, near the basement levels pursuing the mutant girl she had spotted, the one with the brown hair with the silver streak.  
  
"Lookin' for someone, miss?" Rogue asked, pulling off a glove and touching the Baroness on the shoulder, coming in from behind a heap of boxes.  
  
The Baroness fell out cold on the cement floor as Rogue tied her up, gagged her, and locked her in a closet upstairs. "One Cobra down." Rogue said to herself, "How long am I gonna sound like this Transylvanian nut. Oh, of course Kitty would have said that the European accent was an improvement but I'd rather not sound like Count Dracula's stepsister."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"Sure hope the Danger Room controls still work. Though the control mechanisms are damaged, all out destruction suits me just fine. This may be fun." Wolverine said. Gambit was standing behind him; the lanky twenty-one year old gambler from the bayou had long ago lost any innocence he had.  
  
"Power's up. Cobra's entering room at three o'clock. Let's have some fun, eh?" Gambit said, hefting a metal rod in one hand and a mess of wires in the other. He sent a charge of energy into the wiring and the Danger Room's automated defenses shot to life firing into the Cobra unit that blundered into it.  
  
A Cobra Battle Android Trooper came into the room and Gambit had just enough time to throw an energy charged royal flush into the robot, blasting it into shards of metal.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"I am a stone. I do not move." Section Eight said to himself, "I let him come closer. I am not rushed. I am in control. I breathe slow and evenly. I aim at the eye, very gently."  
  
Crack! The rifle sounded again and the Crimson Guard soldier fell to the ground, writhing and flopping about. He was dead, but his body didn't yet grasp that. Section Eight extracted the cartridge slowly. Each Cobra he killed brought him a primitive sense of savage exultation, a sort of satisfaction. Vengeance was his only goal.  
  
A fusillade of return fire erupted from two other Crimson Guards shooting at his decoy, a Cobra who's throat he had slit and placed the sniper rifle from the Cobra sniper he had killed earlier into it's hands.  
  
He lined the other Crimson Guard in his crosshairs and squeezed the trigger. The Crimson Guard fell spastically grabbing his throat. The other fled. Coolly Section Eight tracked him though his telescopic sight and squeezed off another shot. The other Crimson Guard fell dead.  
  
"That was for Evan and Kurt, you bastards." Section Eight growled. Each time he killed one of them he would whisper a name of one of those killed by the Cobra sponsored F.O.H. riot that had destroyed the Institute.  
  
A lone Range Viper was standing guard outside, looking towards the road. Section Eight cloaked and ran downstairs, invisible to the eye. He decloaked behind the viper, pulling his knife. He grabbed the viper by the mouth and slit the man's throat. "Vae Victus." He muttered.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"Sure looks like our boy's work." Roadblock said, minigun slung on one shoulder, and indicating a dead Cobra soldier with a bullet hole in his eye socket.  
  
"Here's a fresher example!" Beach Head growled, pointing at the Range Viper whose head snapped backward as a razor edged steel blade slashed swiftly across it.  
  
Lowlight said, "I see him. Wait he's turned himself invisible."  
  
"What's he doing to that corpse?" Lifeline asked.  
  
Section Eight removed his fatigue jacket, put it on the dead Range Viper and then shouted, "I got him! The worthless bastard!"  
  
Two Cobra soldiers walked up to the dead Range Viper wearing the olive drab fatigue jacket. They moved the body only to be struck full force by a cloud of metal shrapnel. Section Eight had rigged a claymore mine behind the dead body and when the vipers moved it, the mine exploded, throwing shards of metal into them, ripping them into bloody chunks.  
  
"Vae Victus!" Section Eight growled, crawling into the brush where they were hiding.  
  
"What the hell were you doing breaking off from the unit?" Beach Head asked.  
  
"Taking my vengeance." Section Eight growled, a fierce light in his eyes. The legionnaire removed his beret, revealing the high and tight haircut he wore. His hands were covered by the dead Cobra's blood as he wiped the knife's blade on his dirt brown t-shirt, "I'm destroying those bastards that took my home and family away from me."  
  
Beach Head saw the intense fury behind Section Eight's eyes, "I swear I hope you're real fucking happy that you've managed to rile every snake in Bayville on your ass."  
  
"Wait," Roadblock said, "Those Cobra's are starting to need reinforcements here, pulling several troops off of various posts around the city, including the Sentinel factory."  
  
"Lifeline, radio Duke and let him know that Cobras are starting to need help around the old Xavier mansion." Beach Head said as several Dreadnok motorcycles pulled into the driveway. Zartan was known to be part of the Sentinel factory contingent and the fact that a key viper was needed here showed that Section Eight's one man war was taking it's toll.  
  
Apparently Section Eight's one-man war was also taking a toll on him. His eyes mustered both deep hatred for the Cobras that had taken away his beloved and anguish at her death. "Vae Victus." Section Eight muttered.  
  
Section Eight leveled his crosshairs on Zartan's head when one of the Dreadnoks sensed his presence and knocked their leader off his motorcycle, taking the almost certainly fatal round to the throat.  
  
"What on earth does that mean! You idiot, you gave away our position!" Beach Head growled.  
  
"Vae Victus means suffering to the conquered." Lifeline said as the Joes retreated, trying to drag Section Eight off as well as the Cobras started to storm their position.  
  
Section Eight pulled the MP5K from the outer pocket of his rucksack and emptied the clip into the attacking vipers. Lowlight opened fire as well and Roadblock mowed down several of them like a sheaf of wheat with the minigun.  
  
Several Cobras got in close as Section Eight pulled his knife, flipping one Cobra to the ground and stabbing him in the sides. He got up, stabbed another one in the neck, and then charged, screaming visceral rage at another.  
  
The Cobras retreated and the four Joes made a decision to relocate. "Where's Section Eight?" Beach Head shouted.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Section Eight sensed his enemy was near, and alone. Major Bludd had been wounded and separated from his troops. Vengeance was at hand. He saw the wounded, one-eyed mercenary clutching at his stomach.  
  
He stepped on his hand, "Belly wound, Major? Murdering bastard, it can take up to several days to die from one of those."  
  
Several cries of "Yo Joe!" could be heard from outside and the motors of GI Joe vehicles and weapons fire could be heard.  
  
"Hear that, Major? That's the sound of your doom. Now the question hear arises. Shall I leave you to die of your bloody gut wound or shall I end your suffering quickly? You didn't leave my beloved Kitty much of a choice now did you." Section Eight said.  
  
For one of the few times in his life, Major Bludd was afraid. When he had killed that young woman five years ago, Conrad Hart had been little more than a desperate and terrified young man. But five years of hatred and grief had built up while he was in the French Foreign Legion. There was nothing but cold hatred in his eyes. The years had hardened him to killing and fighting, as evidenced by that burning rage exuding from his very being, the battle scars from intervening in several conflicts in Africa were also evident.  
  
"I'll be merciful and end your suffering." Section Eight said, kicking Major Bludd in the rib cage and then slashed the blade of his crude knife across his throat.  
  
As Major Bludd lay gasping in a pool of blood Section Eight said, "That's for Kitty Pryde, think of that name as you go off to the afterlife."  
  
He sensed a presence behind him and turned only to see Zartan plunge a dagger into his side. "He who fights and runs away lives to fight another day." Zartan said, as Section Eight staggered away.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Lifeline saw the legionnaire stagger from the mansion. He was clearly wounded, with that distant, far away look on his face. There was no fear, no anger, and no hate. Section Eight's hand stretched out in front of him as if he was opening a door. Lifeline tried to use his healing gift.  
  
The Xavier Mansion's front gate opened wide as Conrad pushed it open, he could see Kitty Pryde sitting in the branch of one of the large stately oaks near the driveway as he walked toward the front gate. It wasn't destroyed, it hadn't been the site of a major battle, it was pristine, intact.  
  
Lifeline stood at the gate, seeing the petite brunette sitting in the tree scramble down as she saw Conrad walk through. Lifeline knew he didn't want to interfere, he could feel his friend's newfound sense of peace through his gift of healing, so he watched as Conrad met her embrace. Five years of guilt, of pain, of rage seemed to melt away and Lifeline knew his friend was free.  
  
Lifeline didn't feel the sense of frustration or anger that usually accompanied a lost patient. Maybe it was because this particular patient was finally free of an immense burden that had weighed him down for five years.  
  
He joined the other Joes in putting together some sort of project to help repair the mansion with the Xavier Institute survivors. Something told him he owed the dead man that much.  
  
The End  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
A/N: What did you think? The ending a bit of a surprise? Questions, comments, anything else, please place in the review section. 


End file.
